


Bad Memories

by funkle my grunkle (nippy96)



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, gender neutral reader, sfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 08:52:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7633849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nippy96/pseuds/funkle%20my%20grunkle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stanford Pines has some trouble taking care of himself, but you’re there to help out. SFW, gender neutral reader, comfort/fluff. just a short-ish drabble</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Memories

As you reclined on the sofa in the TV room, your eyelids started to feel heavy. The movie you had started watching was getting more boring by the second, and you felt ready to drift off–if not for the sudden _woosh_ of the secret door opening. 

Startled, you whipped your head around to see your lover Stanford Pines emerge from behind the vending machine. He looked incredibly worn and tired, which made sense as he hadn’t been able to sleep much at all recently. Not only had he been relentlessly poring over research for his newest invention, but he was also haunted by his ordeal with Bill Cipher that occurred last summer. You were glad to see Ford out of the basement, but he also looked about ready to collapse.

He noticed you staring and turned towards you, putting on a weary smile.

“Hi, love. Still awake?” he asked.

“Well, yeah,” you replied, laughing a bit. “It’s only 11.”

Ford looked suspicious, but checking his watch, your fact checked out. “…Oh. It felt… later than that,” he stated rather weakly. His forced smile had dissipated. His downcast expression exaggerated his wrinkles and his furrowed brow and his dark eye circles and his messy stubble and his unkempt graying hair but at the same time, he still looked as handsome as ever. 

You told him to come sit with you, and although he hesitated, he couldn’t resist how comfortable that couch and your embrace looked. You re-positioned yourself against the corner of the sofa, opening your legs so Ford could sit in between them. Resting his back against your chest, he let out a contented sigh. When you wrapped your arms around him, he relaxed even more, resting his head on your shoulder. 

After letting him settle in for a bit, you ask him that question that had been nagging you recently. “Have you been taking care of yourself, Ford?”

His eyes were already closed, but he shifted awkwardly as he answered. “Of–of course I have.”

Well, okay, obviously that was a lie. It had been at _least_ two days since his last shower, and you know he hasn’t slept more than 4 hours in the past few days. He keeps some granola bars down in the basement, but you can’t even recall the last time he had a real meal.

“Oh Ford, don’t lie to me. I know you. You’ve been doing nothing but work for three days.”

“Well if I can’t fall asleep, I might as well work.”

“You haven’t bathed or eaten either, excluding the granola bars.”

He didn’t have a response to that, he just pushed himself closer to you. And you held him tighter as well. 

You didn’t have to ask why Ford had been neglecting himself and focusing solely on his project lately–those horrific memories were plaguing his mind once again. Not that they had ever gone away, but the severity of his PTSD fluctuated. Sometimes, he could go weeks without a single nightmare. Other times, he would wake up screaming for Dipper and Mabel. 

Ford would lose himself in his work. He could focus all his attention on the invention; his mind couldn’t drift off to those dark places. He felt secure and didn’t have to think or worry about anything else. 

“Ford,” you said tenderly, “I know it’s bad, and I know working takes your mind off of it, but it doesn’t help if that’s _all_ you do. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he muttered. 

Nothing was said after that. You both sat there, the TV acting as white noise. Ford relished in the way your hand brushed through his hair and rubbed his scalp. For the first time in days, he started to feel calm. You were soft and warm and every touch was full of love. He felt safe. 

And, in a matter of minutes, you heard a faint snore come from him. You were worried that this would be only temporary–another 30 minute “power” nap before waking up in a cold sweat with a hoarse throat–but before you knew it, it was morning. And Ford was still there, sleeping like a baby. 

You waited there until he woke up, glad that he did so peacefully. 

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” you greeted. 

He groggily smiled up at you, a genuine smile, thankful that you spent all night with him here. 

“C’mon Ford,” you continued, “let’s get you and I both in the shower. And after that, order the biggest pizza that Papa John’s offers.”

He felt so unbelievably lucky to have you. And as a small but significant sign of his love and appreciation, he grasped your hand as the two of you headed to the bathroom. 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: sorry if there are any huge grammar errors n such! i’m too tired to proof read it all rn but i probably will tomorrow. i feel like the end got a little choppy BUT overall i’m happy with this.


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